A Dangerous Playground
by Her Lover's Spy
Summary: Sara. Ian. Irons. Not for little kiddies. This is AU people. Read and Enjoy.
1. Unstable

A/N:  Yes, I know I use creative grammar, so don't flame me about it.  You can flame me about anything else you feel like though.  It just means you read the story.  Also, I prefer to 'forget' about the episode about how Ian was related to Emily Bronte, I had the idea for the story long before the episode and have just continued on with it.  By the way, this is a work in progress, the updates won't be regular because I prefer quality over quantity.  *Rolls her eyes* Actually, I got a back case of writers block at ch. 3.  so…

All standard disclaimers apply.  I just like to put the characters in highly unlikely situations.  

Ch 1.         Unstable

            Another stack of papers flopped onto her desk, making what had to be one of the most hated sounds of her career.  Sara Pezzinni sighed heavily, almost wishing it were all over.  To be honest though, she wanted to be gone.  Her day wasn't getting any better; it certainly had been one of the worst days of her life.  Maria's death hadn't even seemed as bad as her current temperament.  At first she felt a stab of guilt for Maria's death, but she shrugged it off.  She didn't need guilt right now.

            "Another one for ya," Sara didn't even glance up at rookie Jake McCartey, she knew he'd have that goofy grin plastered on his face.  Right now even the smile in his voice was enough to nearly set her on edge.  

            "Uh," was the only response that she could manage when she looked at desk which was already piled high; this was no way to make a living.  With another noise of disgust the green eyed woman set to work, trying desperately to ignore the growing unease that came with every file she looked upon.  Apparently it wasn't bothering either Danny or Jake, so Sara tried to ignore the gory photos that littered her workspace.  Case after case went by before she felt entirely suffocated.  "I've, um, got to go, I'll see you tomorrow, 'kay?"

            Sara practically belted out of her chair in haste to get out of the office.  "What's the matter, Pez, had some bad food at lunch?"

            "Yeah, I think that's what it is.  Something about that Thai didn't taste right.  I'm going to take the afternoon off."  Sara was thankful for Danny's reprieve, plus she _was_ sick to her stomach, those pictures had assured her of that.  Her partner and the resident rookie merely nodded and went back to work as she left.  It seemed like she might just escape from the precinct when Burgess loomed in front of her.

            "Going somewhere, Pezinni?  Dante told you about leaving early, something might _happen_."  Somehow that sounded like it was a fact that Dante had it out for her.

            Sara affected a look of non-chalance and leaned against a filing cabinet.  "Are you trying to tell me something, Burgess?  If you are, I suggest you tell me, or I'm leaving."

            Somehow Tommy Burgess didn't seem surprised at her reaction, in fact he smiled.  "It's a dangerous world out there, detective.  We wouldn't want you to take a curve too quick would we?"

            Sara was just about to shove him out of the way when someone grabbed her arm.  "Now, now, _detective_, there is no use in getting upset when someone gives you good advice.  Advice that you better take."  The hand tightened on her arm, almost enough to bruise, "Remember your place, Pezinni, or I'll be forced to remember mine."

            Okay, now that was it, forget the fact that she was about to jump down her bosses throat; he was a total bastard.  

            "Remember my place, huh? Don't even try that one on me, Dante.  I'm not taking the crap; if you were smart, which you obviously aren't, you would leave me the hell alone."  Her voice dropped a few decibels.  "If I wanted, I could kick your ass from her to Seattle, I'm tired of your shit.  Don't push me too far, or you will regret it for the rest of your miserable life."  Sara smiled, but it didn't reach her eyes.  As she turned on her heal to leave she heard Dante mutter, but ignored it.  Until, that is, he brought her father into it.

            "Don't worry, Pezinni, you'll go down just like your coward of a dad, except even he faced it.  You'll just end up begging for it like a moaning wh-" he didn't get to say anything else because of Sara's punch that left him on the floor.  The pain in the brunette's knuckles was grounding, but extremely satisfying.  That along with the blood blossoming on her captain's face.  

            "He may be dead, but leave my dad outta it,"  She didn't even give him a chance to answer as she left, totally oblivious to the many stares that followed her form out the door.  Sara smirked as she left the building to get on her Buell.  That punch had made her feel extremely happy and just to spite Dante and his men, Sara recklessly rode to her apartment.  As an after thought the woman realized just how illegal most of that had been, but, amazingly, she didn't care.  Sara had told them not to push her, besides, no one had succeeded in killing her.

            When she got into her apartment, Sara dropped her jacket on the floor and put her helmet on the table.  While getting the bottle of beer out of the fridge Sara smiled, "So, Nottingham, how long have you been in my apartment?  I can just shoot you now and just say you were a burglar that tried to kill me when I caught you in the act."

            She felt rather than saw Iron's personal assassin's amusement at her ability to sense him, apparently she had utilized the Witchblade's many talents.  Sara just took a drink from the bottle and waited for Ian to speak up.  It proved to be a long time.  "I have a message for you."

            "Oh, how sweet, the assassin's gonna relay a summons from his master like a good little slave!  Abso-freakin'-lutely great.  What is it this time?"

            Nottingham looked at her from underneath his lashes as he answered, "My employer wishes for you to be his guest for dinner."

            Sara couldn't believe this:  it was the fourth offer to go and dine with the man this week.  She was tempted just so that she could tell him off.  "Listen, you can tell Irons to take his offers and shove them up his ass.  I'm tired of his lame attempts to seduce me."

            Through the connection that the Protector and Wielder shared, Ian could feel Sara's roiling emotions; she was a veritable bomb waiting to explode.  He quickly retracted his mind before she noticed any intrusions on her thoughts.  "Should I tell him that you will be unable to attend?"

            Sara slammed her beer down and stalked across the room to the dark man.  "No, you can tell him to stop sending lackeys to do his dirty work.  You can tell him to never invite me over again and you can tell him that he damn well needs to keep the fuck out of my life, and you too."  Sara brandished her wrist at Ian.  They both knew that the Witchblade would not work against him, what was she playing at?

            "You know what, I'm tired of this!  What do I have to do to keep you out of my life?"  Sara began to laugh hysterically and Ian suddenly knew what she was about to do:  Sara was going to use the Witchblade to commit suicide.  

She was insane.

            "Sara," Nottingham cautioned in hopes of calming her.

            "Don't call me that, I never gave you permission!"  Sara screamed and brought her now gauntleted arm down to chest level.  Ian slowly moved toward the Wielder as if he would a wary animal.  She noticed it, "Stop it now!  Come any closer and I will, I swear it!"

            He didn't give her the chance and vaulted across the room to subdue her.  The Protector nearly lost composure from shock when the Witchblade actually drew on him.  If that was the case, then Sara Pezinni, Bladewielder, had truly gone insane and was lost.  "Sara, stop."

            "No!" was her only answer and he was forced to draw his katana in order to keep from being skewered.  Sara became predatory and lunged immediately, a stroke punctuating every word.  "Go on, kill me, I know you can.  You were made to fight, Ian.  Kill me!"  The shock to his system was great when he realized that she had called him by his first name.  Sara got in a good swipe at his chest and smiled.  She liked this game.  "Are you losing it, Ian?"  

            The Witchblade retracted so that it was only a dagger, so Ian sheathed his own blade and stood with his head down.  "Ah, Ian, this is no fun, you're supposed to fight back."  He ignored the husky tone of her voice, true, it was extremely difficult since she had been the object of his dreams for a long time.  "Ian, you're supposed…"  he felt one of her hands on his back and a blade against his stomach, "to fight back."  The blade cut across his skin and through the sweater.  Sara like inflicting pain on him.  He had never thought for her to be a member of the S & M community, but somehow, it was fitting.

            "Ian," he felt cooler air on his abdomen, then another line of fire, he had enough of her foreplay.  He brought his head down to hers and fiercely kissed her.  Even Ian Nottingham only had so much reserve.  She had been waiting for it anyway, he knew and so he demanded entrance to her mouth with his tongue.  Sara opened her lips to welcome him in, but battled his tongue as soon as it entered.  She didn't wish to let him win.  Ian pulled back long enough to shrug off his duster before the now passion enthralled woman pulled his face down to hers with a fistful of black curls.  This was fast becoming dangerous ground.

            With a groan, Sara backed up against a wall all the while battling with Ian's tongue for the dominance of the kiss.  Slowly, she brought her hands to his back and Nottingham noticed with relief that the Witchblade had completely withdrawn.  His relief was replaced by pure, un-adulterated pleasure when Sara ground her hips against him, making him moan long and low into her lips.  Ian could feel the smile on Sara's face at causing a reaction.  She was being a bitch on purpose.  "You bet I am, baby."

            "Just shut up, detective."

            "Oh, fuck you," Sara said while still kissing him, though now she had progressed to nibbling on his ear lobe.

            "I believe that is what you're trying to do, Sara."

            She fastened her legs around his waist in one fluid moment and ripped his collar to give her access to his throat and neck.  "I never told you that you cold use my name."

            "No, you didn't."  He shoved her against the wall and was satisfied with the very feminine squeak she let out.  He was tempted to follow through with the current chain of events, but would be far happier to leave her where she was.  Ian dropped her from her perch upon him and turned to leave, trying desperately to quell his raging hard-on.

            Sara grabbed the front of his now ripped sweater and pulled, effectively ridding him of it.  "You're not leaving yet.  You started this, messenger boy, you're going to finish it."  Ian grunted in response when he was pushed down onto the cold tile floor and his now bare torso was teased by a roving mouth.  He gasped when Sara licked the cuts she had made earlier, the pleasurable pain merely made him decide to forget about his earlier plan.  "Come on, Nottingham, are we gonna do this or are you chickenin' out on me?"

            For an answer Ian helped her out of her long sleeved shirt and unhooked her bra, sliding it off her body.  The man on the floor devoured Sara's flesh with his eyes before reaching to her again to rid her of her jeans.  He was pleased when he discovered that she was wearing no panties underneath her tight clothing.  Sara looked suddenly very annoyed with him though, "You're still wearing clothes, we need to fix that."

            He felt her get off him only to feel Sara's talented hands taking off the cargo pants that currently encased him.  After pulling them off of her soon to be lover, Sara gasped.  It seemed like both of them had known what was going to happen.  

He was commando underneath all of that black.

When Ian tried to remove his gloves Sara stayed his hand, "Leave 'em on."  Sara looked at his weeping cock, evidence that he was enjoying her. "I want you in me now, and I know you can't wait either."  To make a point, she brushed her index finger over his tip and watched the twitch with passionate amusement.  "See?"

Oh, he saw indeed, he saw when she brought that treacherous finger to her mouth and suck on it.  Nottingham didn't care that the floor was uncomfortable and cold, he wanted her then and there.  Before Sara even took her finger out of her mouth, he lifted her up above his throbbing member.  The green-eyed goddess above him took the hint and positioned herself, then impaled with a cry upon him.  Both let out a deep-throated moan as they became a sweaty jumble on the hard floor and set pace with each other.  As they arched for better friction, Ian his her sweetest of spots and Sara rode him quicker.  He couldn't help but notice how primitively beautiful she looked:  a lustful war-goddess coupling with her damned follower and warrior.  They were both damned now, though, he managed to think through his passion-clouded mind, she was insane.  A few more strokes and Ian felt her walls quiver around him until she screamed out her orgasm with him coming into her barely seconds later.

Sara rolled off onto the floor next to him and grabbed Ian's coat from beside her to cover both of them.  Nottingham was amazed that the woman had attempted to commit suicide, then fucked on her apartment floor and was now snuggling up to his side about to sleep.  She was unstable.  There went the wonderful afterglow.  If she were to live much longer, the Protector would have to be more watchful, it wasn't just enemies that could kill the Wielder, Sara might try to be rid of herself.  Ian would watch her, but for now he would sleep with her on the floor until before dawn.  Her comfort to him would end, he would enjoy what little of it he could manage.


	2. Different

Ch. 2   -Different

            "So, Pez, how as last night?"  This was probably the tenth time Danny had asked her about her early day off yesterday.  Normally, Sara would have told him to go dig his grave, but not today, it was…different.  True, they had gone at it on the hard floor, but sometime during the night Ian had moved her to the bed.  _Whoa, when did I start thinking of psycho-Galahad Nottingham as Ian_, Sara thought with a jolt.  She could feel a smile tugging at her lips, Irons' henchman sure knew how to make a woman happy.

            Sara was so involved in the play by play of last night that she didn't notice Danny.  "Pez, hello?  Anyone in there?  Somehow I don't think that it's the food that you're remembering from last night."

            Pezinni let the smile grow.  "No, you're right."

            "Ah, the 'I just got laid and it was good' smirk.  Come on Sara, who was it?  If it were someone in the precinct, then I woulda heard, so it's someone else…"  Sara let him do his mental detective work in his head without interruption.  "Is it the Irons dude?  He's been calling an awful lot lately."  Danny looked at her expectantly.

            "What?  You have known me for how many years and you still think I'll be the one to kiss and tell?  You gotta be kiddin'!"  Sara laughed at him.  "You're as bad as Vicki."

            "I am not as bad as Vicki!  First of all, I'm a man, and second of all, she'd want to know with whom, where, when, how many times and what positions.  She lives through others like a bad romance novel.  I only want to know with whom."  Danny wrinkled his face, "Ugh, bad mental image about Irons.  On second thought, don't tell me about it at all.  I'll leave that up to Vicki."  Sara laughed along with her Asian partner, soon both had tears in their eyes.

            Eventually Danny calmed and looked at the green-eyed woman, a strange set to his face.  "Last night must have really been a good one, you're different."

            Sara cocked her head to the side inquisitively, "Different?"

            "Yeah, you're kinda…I don't know-different.  It's almost like you have switched bodies with someone, or, ah…  You were really spaced out yesterday, today you're buzzing.  And it ain't from caffeine.  It was kind of like you were the living dead," Danny didn't even realize he was he was treading on ice until Sara gave him a cold glare across the desks.

            The waves of anger that Sara directed towards her companion set her emerald eyes alight.  It seemed like Sara was using up all his air for him.  Danny couldn't breather for the pressure on his lungs.  "I, uh," Danny coughed, "I should go."

            Sara crossed her arms over her chest and scowled, "Yeah, you should."

            Danny jumped out of his chair and grabbed for his coat.  Never turning his back, the man edged out of the office slowly and warily, as if he were about to be attacked.  Perhaps he was.  Only when he had left did Sara uncross her arms, but she dtill scowled, "Different…"  The word slipped out and she felt very, very, very dirty from it.  She couldn't help but feel the slime of the word cover her:  it made her skin itch.  The Witchblade didn't wish to help either.  The bracelet on her wrist provided her brain with plenty of graphic images, most including blood, worms, and mud, not to mention a flying view of Sodom and Gomorra.

            Sara had to take several deep breaths to quell her rampant mind and racing hear.  She was going nuts.  The brunette laughed softly.  The very idea of insanity was hilarious, Wielders didn't go crazy, it would never happen.  The only thing was that Sara had already put a mental block up about her assisted suicide attempt only hours before.

            Several hours later, Sara still laughed quietly, but it was more of a chuckle now instead of her previous consuming one.  The day had been boring but bearable after Danny had left, and the graphic reports hadn't bothered her one jot the whole time.  The Witchblade had gone quiescent and wasn't offering up any insights to anything, but, oddly enough, Sara was quite content to observe the carnage from a purely human perspective.  She was almost…happy.  As preposterous as it was.

            Or, at least, she had been happy, but Bruno Dante didn't like his most hated inferiors to be happy.  It had seemed he was still upset about his nose when he arrived with a sneer on his face and more paperwork.  Sara wished that he were one of her homicide cases.  The Witchblade certainly twitched at _that.  _While it would have been all too much fun to let the Witchblade have its way, she just ignored the purposely butchered use of her surname and took the stack of papers given to her.  The wan was such a prick, but she didn't need to let him know it.

            It had only been a few minutes before the man Sara hated to call Captain came back to her office.  "Pezinni, I forgot to tell you, I want those filed by tonight, you have already put off half of your work.  The government actually pays people like you, so sad as you are.  Get your ass on it."  Dante paused for a moment to look around.  "Where's your partner?"

            Sara didn't even pretend to be scared by the man glaring down at her, "I don't know where Danny is, maybe you should piss off and go look for him youself."  She smiled and Dante's jaw dropped.

            "I'm going to kick you outta the Force so hard that you'll bust your ass when you hit the ground."

            Sara leaned languidly against her desk.  "What are you going to do?  I know you have nothing one me, so no bad cop to your 'good' cop.  I've got far more dirt on you than you'll ever get on me and you know it."

            Dante fumed in front of her and she enjoyed it.  True, Sara might have been playing with fire, but it was fun; who cared that she might be burned.  There were lots of people who had grudges against cops, but there would be very few who could stand up to Kenneth Irons and his assassin toy, Ian Nottingham.  Besides, even if she didn't have protection from high up the ass-kissing chain, she had the Witchblade, plus, she liked pissing people off.  The woman had certainly succeeded by the look on her captain's face.

            "Pezinni, you may be on the good side of some powerful people, but I am the law around her.  You step on tow outta line and your guts are going to hand you.  I don't care if I have to go outta my way to do, I'm going to make your life a living hell!"  Sara couldn't believe it:  Dante's face was turning red!  Another go at it then.

            "My life a living hell?  You telling me I'm still alive?  I'll be damned, I thought I was dead already and this _was_ hell."  She chuckled at her own words.  Sara could wait until he stepped out of line until she played her last card.

            "I can fix that for you.  You're going down, Pezinni, and when you see a gun pointing at your head, it'll be me pulling the trigger."  At this Dante looked extremely smug and Sara couldn't help bust his bubble before it got too big.

            "And when the gavel hits at your internal affairs trial know that it was my evidence that got you convicted."  Sara altered her voice to that of an annoying game show host, "Bruno Dante, you're on Convicted Camera!"  Captain Dante glared at her in rage before he turned and stormed out.  Sra burst out laughing as soon as he was out of her office.

            During her maniacal tittering fit, Jake walked in and took a seat at Danny's desk.  He arched and eyebrow inquisitively.  "What was all that about?"

            The bruneete forced herself to be calm and answered the rookie's question.  After the explanation and the fact that she hadn't really caught him on tape, Jake too curst out laughing.  Soon, both had tears streaming down their faces from the joy of putting down Dante.  "Oh, God,"  Jake hic-coughed out from his laughter, "he looked like he had shit a brick!  That is justice.  I can't believe you sometimes."

            Sara bouldn't believe herself either, this was the second time in as many days that she had told her boss off and she wasn't dead.  She hadn't just towed the line, she'd danced a jig across it and then rubbed it out completely.  It was amazing that Dante hadn't punched her back yesterday.  Probably some relic of self-restraint that still held firm, he wouldn't want to be seen duking it out with a female detective.  He would have been soiling himself.  At that thought she quieted and tried to catch her breath.

            "Pez, you're gonna get yourself in a lot of trouble!"

            Sara smiled but failed to notice that Jake had forgot to breath.  He had an almost school-boy crush on her for a long while, she just had something about her that he had fallen for.  It was probably the fact that she was so independent, that and the total obliviousness Sara seemed to have when it regarded romantic notions from anyone around her.  Well, it was time to bite the bullet so to speak.  "Sara, would you like to go to dinner tonight?"

            The woman in question did a major double take with a jerk of her head.  In a quick few seconds her mouth turned a perfect 'O' of surprise before she let out a shaky breath.  "Uh, Jake…"

            "It's alright," He certainly wasn't going to make himself seem like a fool outta this, but it certainly did burn.  "If you don't want to it's fine just know the offer is open."

            Sara smiled somewhat nervously before answering.  "It's not like…"  She walked the verbal roads with extreme trepidation before committing to a single path.  "Jake, I am attracted to you, but, I'm kinda involved with someone right now."  

            Jake's stomach flopped onto itself, she _had_ said that she was attracted to him, that was good for starters, but then she had followed it up with the statement that she was with someone.  He wasn't sure if it was an attempt to let him down easy, and the idea that she was involved made him boil inside.  No, it wasn't like he owned her, but she had never really dated anyone that he knew of and he should have been able to date her…  Instead of answering more possessive instincts, Jake forced out a smile.  "Oh, good to hear, good luck with it then."

            Sara noticed his strained voice and cast him a worrying glance, afraid for once that she had ruined a working relationship.  Now that she really looked at Jake, she really was attracted to him.  Dress him up a little better and cure him of his hatred of the cold and he would be a great guy.  He did have a nice smile and when he worked out she was certainly one of the one's watching, but it was complicated.  "Thanks, you're definitely better about it than Danny.  But, I'm off the market at the current moment."

            The silence that stretched over both of them couldn't even be construed as comfortable and Sara was extremely grateful when Jake shrugged and said that he would be in the gym.  She was almost involved if you counted a rough tumble between her and Nottingham, he was always around in a stalker-ish sort of way.  It really was time to talk to his boss about getting his watchdog off her back.  Not that she would mind him there physically, just metaphorically.  

            With a resolution to take care of certain barriers that she had put between herself and the man who wished to be in the roll of her 'benefactor,' Sara picked up the phone and dialed.  "Hey Nottingham," she said after his familiar answer of 'Hey Sara,' she swore he had telepathy.  "About that dinner with Kenny-boy, what should I wear?"

Next, see what happens at 1111 Faust St.  

**I MUST MAKE THIS STATEMENT NOW:**

This won't be regular updates, my computer is in the shop and I have to use the one at the library, so, needless to say, they don't like me there.  I will try to get everything written though, it's just this:  my summer's are always busy as hell.

Her Lover's Spy.


End file.
